Posts Tagged ‘vengeance’

Persistence or trust?

October 15, 2022

Pentecost 19 – 2022
Luke 18:1-14
Marian Free

In the name of God Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver. Amen.

Allow me to read the first parable again.

And he said a parable to them. Concerning their necessity always to pray and not to become discouraged, saying,
“Some judge was in some city; God was he not fearing, and people was he not respecting. And a widow was in that city. And she kept coming to him, saying, ‘Avenge/grant me justice against my adversary.’
“And not did he wish at that time. But after these things he said to himself, ‘if even God I do not fear no people do I respect, yet on account of the trouble this widow causes, I will avenge her, so that not into the end, coming, she will give me a black eye.’”
And said the Lord, “Hear what the unjust judge says. And will not God make vengeance to his elect, those who cry to him day and night, and will he be patient upon them? I say to you that he will avenge them swiftly. Nevertheless, when the Son of Man comes, then will he find faith upon the earth?

Now I imagine that translation might have taken you aback. It is awkward because it is a literal translation, and it is confronting because it forces us to see the parable in a different light. It is however a more translation and as such helps to give us a clearer sense of the parable’s meaning.

Collectively, we have a tendency to be complacent, if not lazy, when it comes to matters of faith. For example, when it comes to the bible, if or when we read it, we presume to know and understand it. Very often, we see what we expect to see rather than approaching the text afresh and asking questions and exploring it more deeply to see what else it might reveal. Familiarity does not so much breed contempt as it encourages complacency. It is easy to assume that what we have been told – at Sunday School or in a sermon – remains true for all time. This is especially true of the parables. We know the parables so well, they. Have been explained to us so often, that we can sum them up in a single phrase. The prodigal son, the good Samaritan, the barn builder and the persistent widow all bring up images not only of the parable, but of the meaning of the parable.

It is comforting and reassuring to have at our disposal stories that encapsulate what it is to be a neighbour, that illustrate how much God loves us or show the foolishness of storing up one’s wealth. Every now and again though it doesn’t hurt to be challenged, to have our traditional interpretations thrown into question or to see a saying or a parable in a new light because nothing is set in stone no one alive today was present to hear Jesus teach and even our gospel writers are the second or third generation of followers.

Before our gospels were written in their current form, Jesus’ teachings were conveyed orally. Over time different leaders will have given them different emphases depending on the needs of their audiences. When the gospel writers finally gathered Jesus’ sayings into a form of biography, they made decisions about the order in which they would present Jesus’ teaching and life. In the process they also included their own editorial comments – creating a narrative and sometimes interpreting Jesus’ words for the readers. The story didn’t end there. During the course of history, the bible was translated – first into Latin and then into the common language of the people. Translation led to another layer of interpretation. No matter how dispassionate they tried to be, each translator came to the scripture with a pre-existing bias which imposed itself on the text.

Few of us are aware of such biases and of what we bring to the text.

The literal translation of today’s parable of the widow and the judge is a good illustration of the problem. Even though the word εδικεω (edikeo) means to avenge, our translators have chosen (for whatever reason) to translate it as justice. Vengeance is a strong and uncomfortable word, and it certainly doesn’t fit with our received learning that the widow has no agency, that she needs someone to take her side. Yet there is no suggestion in the parable that our widow is powerless OR that she is meek and vulnerable. Indeed, she is arguing her case before the judge, without anyone to support her. She wants revenge and she will get it by wearing the judge down. When the judge finally gives in, it is less because of the widow’s persistence and more because he is afraid that she will resort to violence if he doesn’t give her what she wants.

This is a much more likely scenario than the one we usually associate with this parable. Jesus’ parables are intended to shock us, to challenge our conventional way of thinking. If we domesticate them (have the widow seek justice not mercy) we take away their sting – the point that Jesus is making to force us to re-think the way we see the world. Luke’s addition to the parable does just that. The parable proper is the story of the widow and the judge (verses 2 through 5). By adding an introduction and conclusion, Luke uses Jesus’ parable for a specific different purpose. Luke’s introduction and conclusion – Jesus told them a parable about the need to: “pray always and do not lose heart” and concludes that God will give justice to those who: “cry to him day and night” suggest that he uses it to encourage Jesus’ followers to pray – even when the circumstances seem to mitigate against prayer. (Luke’s additions and the translators’ preference for justice rather than vengeance contribute to a picture of a widow who is vulnerable and praiseworthy.)

But, as Amy-Jill Levine points out – in this parable neither the judge, nor the widow are ‘moral exemplars’. The widow seeks vengeance and will not stop until she is satisfied, and the judge allows himself to be corrupted or at least compromised – by giving in to the widow, even though he presumably did not think she had just cause.

The point is precisely that God is not like the judge, and we are not to be like the widow. God does not need to be worn down by our consistent pressing and cannot be forced into acting against God’s nature. We are not to be like the widow – taking things into our own hands, battering God into submission, or trying to bend God to our will. God can be trusted and God will grant justice to God’s elect. Our task is not to persist, but to trust, to believe that it is in God’s nature to bring about justice and that God will hear the cries of the broken-hearted and oppressed.

“Vengeance is mine” says the Lord in Deuteronomy (32:35)
If there is vengeance to be taken, God will take it. So we can leave it to God.

Reconciled to God and to one another

April 13, 2013

Easter 3. 2013

John 21:1-19

Marian Free

In the name of God, who in Jesus, redeems us and sets us free from all our sins. Amen.

One of the most extraordinary things associated with the end of apartheid in South Africa was the establishment of the Truth and Reconciliation Commission. Instead of seeking retribution and/or reparation for the events of the past, the new government committed itself to a process of listening to the stories, the pain and the hurt of the past and trying to bring about healing rather than creating further division. Perhaps the most courageous aspect of this process was the commitment to those who had carried out atrocities that they would not be prosecuted if they came forward and told the truth.

If you have the stomach for a harrowing experience, I suggest that you watch the movie, Red Dust. In it a former South African police officer, Dirk Hendriks, wants to confess to the torture and beating of Alex Mpondo – a member of Parliament. Alex is anxious about testifying. It means reliving the horror and dealing with the death of his friend Steve. When the trial starts, Hendriks accuses him of denouncing Steve, which causes his own community to abandon him. Alex is sure he did not betray his friend, but his memory is not sufficiently clear nor can he produce evidence to prove his version of events

Hendrik’s former boss, Piet Muller, wants to ensure that only a sanitised account is made known so that he is not implicated in the events. He has a vested interest in discrediting Alex.

So we watch as Alex finds the courage to testify and to re-live the experience of his own torture and the agony of having to watch his friend’s horrendous suffering and death. We are indignant when we discover that Alex’s version of events cannot be supported by other evidence and when his fellow ANC members turn against him. We are relieved when his account is proven to be true. We witness the grief and relief of Steve’s mother as her son’s remains are recovered and she acknowledges that he is indeed dead.

The story doesn’t end there. When Muller realises that his part in Alex’s torture and Steve’s death has been exposed, he makes the decision to protect himself by confessing. In order for this to work, Alex has to allow the process to proceed. Alex is furious. He can see that Muller is only protecting himself. He cannot bear the thought that this man will walk free despite the atrocities he has committed. Gradually, Alex works through his anger, his need for retribution and reparation and he comes to the decision that he must let go of the past no matter how unpalatable that decision may be. He comes to the understanding that withholding his cooperation will solve nothing so he allows the process to continue.

Of course, I don’t know how well the process has worked overall, but from a Christian perspective it seems to me that it is a more positive (if extraordinarily painful) way to deal with conflict resolution especially on a personal, neighbourhood or national level. If the perpetrators of violent acts can acknowledge what they have done and if the victims can find the strength to surrender their need to have their suffering validated by the punishment of the other it just might be possible to find a way to escape the cycle of retribution and violence that keeps some conflicts going.

Our sense of justice is finely honed, but storing up bitterness, anger and hatred does no one any good. Vengeance does not lead to reconciliation or to the restoration of relationships. That is not to say that the perpetrators of abuse should not be held accountable or that crimes and misdeeds should simply be overlooked. Unacceptable behaviour remains unacceptable and must be named as such and it must not be allowed to continue. On the other hand, no matter how insincere a person’s “confession” might be, any admission of wrong doing means that their behaviour is exposed and they can no longer pretend to be what they are not. The past is laid open for others to judge.

The scale is different, but accountability and restoration feature in today’s gospel.

Despite having said that he will follow Jesus to death, Peter has denied Jesus not once but three times. Confronted with Jesus’ arrest, Peter has revealed that he was not as courageous as he had thought he would be. Even though he followed Jesus’ progress through the court system, Peter did not want to be identified as one of Jesus’ followers. Having promised complete and total loyalty, he lacked the courage to stand up and be counted. He watched Jesus being unjustly condemned but did nothing to intervene

You would think, wouldn’t you, that such behaviour would be hard to forgive. You would understand if Jesus, having undergone the excruciating agony of crucifixion, might want to extract some sort of reparation from those who abandoned him. He would be justified in thinking that Peter should accept the consequences of his denial. In fact, it would not be surprising to us if Jesus had given Peter the cold shoulder and frozen him out of any further involvement in the movement.

Jesus however, acts in a way that is contrary to all our expectations. He does not confront Peter (or any of the other disciples for that matter) and accuse him (them) of cowardice, desertion and betrayal. He doesn’t demand recompense from Peter for his treachery, his abandoning him in his hour of need. He doesn’t make Peter prove his loyalty and demonstrate his commitment before they can be friends again. Instead he does what by human standards is almost unthinkable. Not only does he overlook what Peter has done, but he gives to Peter the preeminent role in the community. “Feed my lambs, shepherd my sheep.” Peter is commissioned to take over where Jesus left off. Peter, the deserter is to become Peter the leader

That does not mean that Peter is not held accountable for what he has done. His crime may not be named, but Jesus’ threefold request and Peter’s obvious discomfort are evidence that Peter is being asked to accept responsibility for his weakness and for the fact that he turned his back on his leader and his friend. Without having to make recompense, without being isolated, excluded and punished, Peter is restored to his place in the community, his place in Jesus’ affection and given new responsibility. History shows that Jesus’ confidence is not misplaced.

And this, brothers and sisters is the extraordinary thing about the God in whom we believe. We abandon and betray God, but God does not abandon us. We nail God to a cross and still God continues to trust in us. It is this, I hope – God’s love and trust in us, not the threat of punishment or the fear of the fires of hell – that makes us respond, that encourages us to behave in ways that deserve such confidence. Even at our worst, God sees the good in us. Let us do all that we can to live up to God’s faith in us.